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THE AUGUST CYCLOIE. 



A DESCRIPTIVE NARRATIVE OF THE 
MEMORABLE STORM OF 

1885. 



Some Mention of the Destruction of Property 

IN AND AROUND CHARLESTON— ThE CHARACTER 

OF THE Disturbance Explained, and its Pro- 
gress Traced from its Origin in the 
West Indies to its Disappearance in 
THE North Atlantic Ocean, 

By carl Mckinley, eso. 

TOGETHER WITH 

A Brief Account of the Tornado of 176 1. 



THE AUGUST CYCLONE. 



A DESCRIPTIVE NARRATIVE OP THE 
MEMORABLE STORM OP 



1885. 



Some AIention of the Destruction of Property 

IN AND around CHARLESTON ThE CHARACTER 

OF THE Disturbance Explained, and its Pro- 
gress Traced from its Origin in the 
West Indies to its Disappearance in 
the North Atlantic Ocean, 



By carl McKINLEY, Es^. 



TOGETHER WITH 



A Brief Account of the Tornado of 1761, 



i^^RAR ,• Q^ 







[RE-PRINTED FROM THE CITY YEAR BOOK, 1885.] ^ Q '"'• W^ 



CHARLESTON, S. C. 

THE NEWS AND COURIBK BOOK PRESSES. 
1886. 



THE AUGUST CYCLONE-1885, 



The most notable event of the year 1885, i" Charleston, 
and one which will form the subject of interesting reminis- 
cence and comparison for years to come, was the disastrous 
storm which, originating in the West Indies and reaching the 
Carolina coast on the morning of August 25th, seemed to 
attack Charleston with especial fury, and threatened for a 
time to overwhelm the entire city in its own ruins. The 
damage inflicted by the winds and waves upon property in 
and around the city was indeed so great and so widely dis- 
tributed as to preclude giving even a bare list of the more 
serious losses within the limits of this chapter. A detailed 
statement of such losses, together with many other interest- 
ing particulars of the storm, was published in The News 
AND Courier on the days immediately following the storm, 
and constitute a record of permanent interest. The present 
narrative will be confined to a description of the storm as it 
appeared to eye witnesses, to such account of its ravages as 
will serve, in some degree, to illustrate its destructive force ;• 
and to recording the phenomena attendant upon its de- 
velopment. The course of the disturbance is also carefully 
traced upon a line coextensive with that of the Atlantic 
coast of the United States. 

To the eye of the casual observer at Charleston there was 
nothing unusual in the appearance of the weather at any 
time before midnight of Monday, August 24th, to indicate 
the approach of a storm of any kind. The "indications" 
sent out by the Signal Service Office at Washington, 
dated i o'clock A. M. of the 24th, were : " For the South 
Atlantic States, local rains, variable winds, nearly station- 
ary temperature." From 7 A. M. until 7 P. M., according 
to the Signal Service record, the direction of the wind at 
Charleston was from the East. At 10 P. M. it was from 



the Southeast, and held in that quarter until after 7 A. M. on 
the 25th. The barometer, reduced to sea-level, ranged on 
Monday from 29.968 at 7 A. M. to 29.834 at 1 1 P. M. At 2.20 
P. M. the following dispatch from the Signal Service Office at 
Washington was received by Sergeant James H. Smith, 
the Observer at Charleston : 

"Up signals; fresh and strong East to North winds." 

Cautionary signals were accordingly hoisted about 2.30 
P. M. 

This dispatch, as will be seen later, had reference to in- 
dications observed along the Florida sea coast, and foretold 
the character of the wind that might be expected within a 
few hours at Charleston, thus warranting the display of 
cautionary signals, and giving the first notice of the 
approach of the dread visitor whose true character was 
so little suspected, and the announcement of whose 
coming was scarcely noticed. It is worthy of remark at 
this point, however, that the pilots who came into the har- 
bor late in the afternoon reported having encountered an 
unusually heavy sea outside the bar, which sign long ex- 
perience had taught them to regard as the precursor of 
" dirty weather," as they expressed it. The interesting 
feature of this occurrence is, of course, that the waves caused 
by the storm then raging at sea below the Southeastern 
horizon had so far outrun the winds as to reach Charleston 
many hours in advance of the storm itself. 

During the 24th cumulus and cirro-cumulus clouds pre- 
vailed. About 4 P. M. to 7 P. M. the sky was covered with 
cirrus and stratus clouds moving rapidly from the East, fol- 
lowed at midnight by a light scud fllying from the Southeast. 
After midnight their character changed again to cirro-cumu- 
lus, which gave place, in turn, to a heavy mass of cumulo 
stratus, immediately preceding the storm and accompanied 
by lightning. Through the rifts of the storm clouds during 
the night cirro-stratus were observed, floating high above 
and moving independently of the former, as regards both 
speed and direiction. 

There was nothing alarming in the appearance of the 



clouds, nor in the force of the wind that guided their course, 
until some time after midnight. Whether it was the result 
of former association or of subsequent experience, however, 
it was afterwards recalled to mind by more than one late 
watcher that there was a peculiar something, "a feeling in 
the air," a subdued menace in the first whisperings of the 
wind that faintly challenged attention and hinted vaguely 
of coming ill, even while it failed to make the warning un- 
derstood by unskilled and unsuspecting minds. The import 
of these hints, if hints they were, began to be expressed in 
plainer terms an hour or two later; when old residents of 
Charleston, who were aroused from sleep by the force of 
the blasts that occasionally broke forth upon the city, recog- 
nized in the soughing of the winds the indescribable but char- 
acteristic sound which always heralds the coming of a gale. 

The wind did not attain a velocity of twenty-five miles 
an hour until 1.30 A. M. on Tuesday, at v;hich time the 
storm is officially regarded as having commenced in 
earnest. From that hour until about 4 A. M. it decreased 
in violence, or rose and fell fitfully, subsiding for a space 
between 2.30 and 3.30 to seventeen miles an hour. By 
4.30 A. M. it had again increased to thirty-five miles an 
hour, and from that time until about 9 A. M. continually 
developed force by degrees which were marked by the tell- 
tale signs and sounds that filled the air on every side. 

Looking out into the gloom during the closing hours of 
the night and the early hours of the morning, the eye 
encountered a scene never to be forgotten, and which 
the beholder would scarcely care to see twice. The 
powers of the air seemed to have been loosed for a carnival 
of havoc, and earth and heaven, the winds and the waters, 
warred together in a fury of blind rage. Dense clouds now 
obscured the sky, and swept along scarcely missing the 
house tops, pouring forth sheets of blinding, driving rain, 
which were themselves caught up as they fell, torn into 
shreds of spray, and scattered hither and thither like wildly 
eddying snow drifts. The trees which lined the streets and 
filled the yards and gardens of the city were in full leaf, 



6 



and swaying heavily and incessantly to and fro, their 
boughs rising and falling and wildly lashing each other, 
formed a conspicuous feature in the troubled landscape. 
The leaves were never still, and it required but little stretch 
of fancy to regard them as shuddering with terror and 
seeking to tear themselves from their frail stems and fly 
away, when a blast of unusual force would swoop down 
upon them like a bird of prey upon a flock of trembling 
doves. At dawn the streets were already thickly strewn 
with boughs which had been broken and hurled to the 
ground, where they lay interspersed with the quantities of 
loose leaves, signs, slates and tiles, which had first yielded 
to the force of the gale. The wind by this time had at- 
tained, at intervals, a velocity of over forty miles an hour. 
The few ice and milk vendors, and other persons whom busi- 
ness or curiosity led abroad at so early an hour, found no 
little difficulty in picking their way and avoiding the mis- 
siles which occasionally fell around them. 

About 7 A. M. the wind increased to over fifty miles 
an hour, and rapidly augmented in force during the suc- 
ceeding two hours. The work of destruction increased in 
proportion. The air was soon filled with flying missiles. 
Tiles and slates were torn by thousands from the house- 
tops, and hurled to long distances, skimming along, as 
was said by an observer, like flights of terrified swal- 
lows. Loose bricks and fragments of mortar from chim- 
neys and copings were wrenched from their places and 
showered down into the yards and streets, or crashed upon 
the house tops with thunderous sound. The tin roofs were 
marked for general destruction. Forced from their fas- 
tenings at an early stage of the storm, many of these 
coverings were ripped up by swift degrees, rolled or crum- 
pled together, and blown away like so much paper. When 
held down by an edge or corner, the effect of the wind in their 
folds, as the great sheets flapped and pounded about on the 
hollow roofs, was alarming indeed. After the storm great 
rolls of this material lay scattered about the city, looking 
not unlike carcases of some strange monsters of the deep 



that had been washed into the city by the waves, and strand- 
ed and left to die. 

The roar of the tempest cannot be described. Vast and 
unceasing as that of a mighty cataract, it conveyed to the 
ear a sense of the majesty and overwhehning power of the 
element whose voice it was which was scarcely heightened by 
the visible tokens of that power so abundantly displayed in 
every direction. Even the thunder that followed the occa- 
sional lightning's flash scarcely deepened its volume, and 
rolling away into darkness and distance, was swallowed 
up in the one unending and angry roar, as waves of sound 
upon a sea of sound. 

The audible but invisible torrent poured over and across 
land and sea, filling the vault of heaven like a flood that 
had broken its bounds in upper air and was impelled to 
earth by the pressure of a greater flood behind. And, as if 
to add another element of terror to the tumult, there 
was heard for hours the constantly repeated, heavy boom- 
ing of the alarm bells of the city, striking at short in- 
tervals as their sensitive machinery responded to the 
fitful currents of the electric wires by which they were con- 
trolled. The cause of these continuous alarms was not 
generally understood, and they added greatly to the dis- 
tress of many of the citizens, who could not divine their 
meaning and whose imagination suggested countless forms 
of calamity. 

With every perceptible increase in the force of the wind, 
the anxious watcher felt that his house must go down 
before it, and many a devout heart spent the night in 
alternate thanksgiving for danger passed and prayer for 
deliverance from that which momentarily threatened. Many 
were they who had watched for the morning, in the 
hope that light would bring an end to the trying ordeal of 
the night. This hope was doomed to bitter disappointment. 
Tearful eyes looked forth from shattered and leaking win- 
dows after dawn to see no token of diminishing fury in the 
winds, or in the clouds wildly rushing overhead. 

After eight o'clock the gale apparently redoubled its force, 



and the occurrences of the night were multiplied and inten- 
sified in character. Trees that were already stripped of 
their leaves and dismembered of their limbs, broke under the 
increasing strain ; or, torn from their deeply anchored roots, 
crashed heavily to the ground. Fences were prostrated like 
cardboards; shutters and signs were brushed from their 
hiriges ; windows and doors were burst in, and the rain 
streaming through gaping roofs made miniature cascades 
down the walls and stairways. At 7.30 A. M., it is stated 
by one careful observer, comparatively slight damage had 
been caused along the Eastern water front, which of course 
was most exposed to the force of the waves. None of the 
wharf sheds had been blown down, although the tin roofing 
had been ripped from several. All the vessels moored along 
the river front were riding freely and in apparent safety, 
save one or two yachts which had not been secured, and 
were wrecked in consequence. At 8.45 the same observer 
revisited the scene, to find that but a single shed was stand- 
ing intact, and that the structures along the entire river 
front were demolished. "Everything lay in ruins; pier 
h^ds, sheds, vessels, offices, and docks, presented one mass 
of indescribable confusion." 

The scene in the harbor at this time, as viewed from the 
Battery, has been described as one of "awful grandeur." 
The gale was blowing from the ocean directly into the 
mouth of the harbor, and the force of the wind, acting with 
the flood tide, impelled the waters before it with inconceiv- 
able force. Looking seaward, the whole surface of the har- 
bor appeared as a sheet of boiling, rushing foam, heaving 
with the swell of the great billows beneath, or torn in flakes 
from their mounting crests and driving landward like flying 
sails. 

At the height of the tempest the Norwegian bark Medbor, 
having slipped her anchor at the Quarantine Station, drove 
into the harbor "like a chip on the surface of a whirlpool," 
and whirling round and round at the wind's will as she came, 
was stripped of her rigging and wrecked within a stone's 
throw of the shore, the crew being rescued with great diffi- 
culty. 



9 



The great waves, rolling inward without resistance, struck 
the sea wall of the Battery in swift succession, with a deaf- 
ening roar, and, bursting into "huge water-spouts," were 
hurled against the fronts of the residences along the street, 
smashing in windows and doors, levelling fences, and inun- 
dating the lawns and gardens. Large flagstones from the 
promenade along East Battery were broken up and washed 
across the st^reet. Not more than two or three houses on 
either thoroughfare esca[)ed ; mt)st of them were unroofed 
in whole or in part. The bathing house near the foot of 
King Street was swept away and completely wrecked. 
One of the notable features of the storm in this quarter 
was the extraordinary rapidity with which the water 
rose, the incoming sea being likened by one observer to 
the rush of a tidal wave. 

At high tide, half-past seven o'clock, the sea was on a level 
with the top of the Battery wall, while the water on the in- 
side was a few inches from the top. The ground floors of 
the houses were from three to six feet under water, which 
was rushing through Water Street with the speed of a mill- 
race. White Point Garden was of course wholly submerged, 
and boats could have been rowed from place to place any- 
where along South Battery. All the streets around the 
water front of the city were covered to varying depths. 

In the city, meanwhile, the work of destruction had pro- 
ceeded apace. About seven o'clock the tall spire of the 
Citadel Square Baptist Church was overturned, and falling 
upon the three and a half-story residence of Mr. Thomas D. 
Dotterer, at the corner of Meeting and Henrietta Streets-, cut 
off the piazzas and front wall of the three upper stories, leav- 
ing their interior wholly exposed to view from the street. A 
little later, about 8.30, perhaps, the gilt ball and weather- 
vane of St. Michael's Church, which had adorned the steeple 
and withstood the storms of one hundred and twenty years, 
at an elevation of one hundred and seventy feet, fell heavily 
to the sidewalk on Broad Street. The roof of the Church 
was almost stripped of its heavy slates during the storm, to 
the imminent peril of the passers-by. The spire of the Ger- 
2 



10 



man Lutheran Church, on the West side of Marion Square, 
was ctrained several feet from the perpendicular, its heavy 
iron summit being broken off and left pendant. Scarcely a 
house in the whole city escaped damage to an extent, meas- 
ured by cost, ranging from a few dollars to thousands. 
Many columns of THE News and Courier were filled for 
days after the storm with mere mention of the buildings 
that were injured. 

About nine o'clock there was an unexpected and gladly 
welcomed respite. The wind, which had been blowing from 
the East during the height of the storm, for an hour or two 
previously, suddenly subsided almost to a calm. The rain 
ceased, and children went forth to play, and to wonder at 
the wreck around them. Groups of men gathered on the 
street corners to talk over the experiences of the night, and 
to recount the losses they had suffered. Families, friends 
and neighbors exchanged messages of anxious inquiry or 
congratulation. Housewives set about preparing the de- 
layed morning meal from the stock on hand, in the enforced 
absence of hucksters and bakers and milkmen, who were pre- 
vented from making their usual rounds. 

The deceitful respite was of short duration, however, and 
ended almost as abruptly as it began. The period of calm 
lasted forty minutes. Almost at a breath, the tempest 
swooped down from a new quarter, the West, rapidly veering 
to the Northwest, with less force than before the calm, 
indeed, but with enough to affect great damage along the 
Ashley River. Roofs, trees, fences, wharves and ships 
that had withstood the force of the storm before, owing 
to favored positions, yielded to the attack from a new 
direction, and wreck was piled on wreck, ruin heaped on 
ruin. 

Two sloops were lifted up by the high tide and deposited 
across Chisolm's Causeway, effectually barring the passage 
of wagons after the waters receded. The iron steamship 
Glenlivet was torn from her moorings and driven up the 
Ashley River, where it came into collision v/ith the new 
bridge, then approaching completion, and swept away 



11 



several hundred feet of the trestle approach on the Charles- 
ton side. The complete destruction of the entire water 
front is best indicated by the statement of the fact that 
when the steamer Delaware, Capt. Winnett, came into port, 
late in the afternoon after the storm, it was found that 
there was but one wharf which she could approach, and 
that escaped total destruction because one of its piers was 
built of granite. 

When the gale finally subsided, a little after noon, and 
the clearing sky gave token that the calamitous visitor was 
really gone, it was evident that the work of destruction 
had been indeed widespread and severe. The streets were 
now so obstructed by fallen trees and fences that vehicles 
could not pass, and pedestrians could, hardly pick their 
way along. The lower levels were flooded, the drain 
pits being choked with debris, and the water ran knee- 
deep in many places or stood in muddy pools. The intri- 
cate web of electric wires that had stretched from pole to 
pole in every direction, were tangled in hopeless confusion 
overhead or under foot. The surface of the ground every- 
where was carpeted with battered green leaves, while the 
trees that remained standing showed strangely bare against 
the summer sky. Broken signs, shutters and sheets of tin 
from the roofs hung from the sides and tops of houses and 
stores. Looking from holes in the roof of a dwelling, onesaw 
the heads of curious neighbors, alike intent on observation, 
protruding from the roofs all around him. 

Perhaps, however, the best idea of the extent of the 
wreckage in the city can be obtained from the bare state- 
ment that during the week following the storm over [o,ooo 
cartloads of vegetable debris alone were hauled from the 
streets, besides the vast quantities that were washed away 
by the tremendous rainfall that accompanied the storm, and 
that followed it a day or two later. The total visible 
damage inflicted upon the city was estimated at $2,000,000, 
and this amount did not include the damage inflicted upon 
furniture, &c., of which no estimate could be made. 

The shipping in the harbor suffered heavily, as did the 



12 



railroads leading out of the city. The details of loss 
cannot be given here. 

At Sullivan's Island, owing to its exposed situation, the 
full force of the wind and waves was of course experienced. 
The damage was very great ; the whole island was under 
water, and many residents were driven into the upper stories 
of their homes. The waves undermined and destroyed 
many houses, while others were lifted bodily and removed 
to a considerable distance. The people on the island 
being cut ofT from the mainland, and having despaired of 
life itself for hours, reckoned the loss of property as of little 
consequence. 

it should be noted here that the water which was so 
suddenly swept into the harbor after daylight, was as 
suddenly carried out to sea again by the change in the 
direction of the wind that took place about two hours 
after the time of high water. This timely change probably 
saved Moultrieville on Sullivan's Island from total destruc- 
tion, and prevented the loss of many lives. 

At Mount Pleasant the damage was also great ; while the 
farms on the islands around the city suffered heavily by the 
destruction of houses, and crops of all kinds. 

The occurrence of the interval of calm in the midst of the 
storm, together with the reversal of the direction of the 
wind immediately following it, first suggested the rotary 
character of the gale, and this beingafterwards clearly estab- 
lished placed it in the category of cyclones. As there is 
still some misapprehension in regard to the true character 
of the storm, however, it is necessary to define it clear!)', 
in order to distinguish it from the tornado or whirlwind 
which so frequently visits the interior portions of the 
United States. 

The diameter of the tornado is seldom more than a few 
hundred yards; and, perliaps, never so much as a mile. 
The great circle of the cyclone, on the other hand, is from 
one hundred to five hundred miles in diameter, and some- 
times one thousand miles. Tornadoes develop inland, but 
often p.iss out to sea before exhausting themselves. The 



13 



cyclones are ocean storms, formed upon its bosom and 
rushing landward. Originating under the tropics, those 
which form Nortli of the equator move into the Atlantic 
Ocean on a long parabola which sweeps in against the South 
Atlantic coast and then out to sea again. Those which 
originate South of the equator take a precisely opposite 
course, bending in towards the coast of South America and 
off into the South Atlantic. 

No cyclone has ever been known to cross the equator. 
The circular motion of the winds in the Northern bound 
cyclone is invariably, like the motion of the wind in the 
tornado of the same latitude, from right to left, or a'^'-ainst 
the hands of a watch placed in a horizontal position. South 
of the equator the motion is from left to right, or in the 
same direction as that of the hands of a watch. 

The cyclone in this latitude may, therefore, be generally 
described as a broad belt of wind moving at a hio-h rate of 
speed around a great circle of man^^ miles diameter, and 
having, as was shown at Charleston, an -Extended area of 
calm at the centre. During the passage of the cyclone 
the baroineter oscillates in a remarkable manner, rising and 
falling rapidly, so that a great barometric oscillation nearly 
always announces the approach of a tempest. The most 
rapid fall begins from three to six hours before the passage 
of the centre. The barometer is lowest near the middle of 
the storm area, and begins to rise before the strength of the 
cyclone is expended. The rise of the barometer after the 
storm is usually as rapid as was its fall on the approach of 
the storm. 

Keeping in view this sketch of the salient features of a 
cyclone, the character of the storm of August 25th plainly 
appears, and its course may be traced in conformity with the 
observations already made, and with the record followino-, 
which is derived from official sources. 

Following the law above stated, the cyclone under con- 
sideration formed at sea, some distance to the Southeast of 
Florida, and gradually moved Northward and inward toward 
the Florida coast, its approach being first indicated to the 



14 



Signal Service Bureau at Washington by the report of the 
Observer at Jacksonville, at 7 o'clock on the morning of the 
24th, that the barometer had suddenly shown the abnormal 
fall of .15 during the night; a light rain and fresh North- 
easterly wind of sixteen miles an hour being reported 
at the same place. The wind at Key West, Florida, at 
the same time, was light Northerly, and at Savannah, 
Georgia, light Northeasterly. Fearing from these indi- 
cations that a disturbance might be coming on upon, the 
coast, the Signal Service Officer at Washington called for 
special midday reports from several of the stations on the 
South Atlantic coast, upon the receipt of which reports 
cautionary storm signals were ordered to be displayed early 
in the afternoon ; the order reaching Charleston at 2.20 P. M., 
as stated at the outset of this article. Before the receipt of 
the order at Jacksonville, however, the storm itself had 
already reached that point. The afternoon reports of the 
Signal Service plainly showed the centre of the cyclone to 
be Northeast of Jacksonville and South of Savannah; a 
brisk Northeast wind of nineteen miles blowing at Savan- 
nah, while a gale of from twenty-eight to forty miles an 
hour from the West swept over Jacksonville from i to 6 P. 
M., after which latter hour it gradually moderated. The 
Signal Service Of^ce regards the conditions prevailing over 
the United States at this time as presenting some of the 
most remarkable features ever witnessed, the situation 
being summarized as follows: 

"A West India cyclone was raging on the Georgia coast 
with the barometer .30 below the normal; winds increasing 
in force and light rains. A long narrow trough, in which 
the barometer was .20 to .30 below the normal, extended 
from Northeastern Texas to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. 
Within this trough were several small depressions bounded 
by the isobar for 29.70; the barometer was lowest over the 
Gulf of St. Lawrence, with the isobar for 29.50 bounding 
the storm centre ; heavy rains and severe thunder storms 
marked this trough. The barometer was highest and still 
rising in Dakota and Manitoba. The temperature was 
slightly below the normal on the Georgia and South Caro- 



15 



lina coast, and was from 5° to 12° above the normal in the 
Southern part of New Enghxnd, in the Middle Atlantic and 
East Gulf States, the Ohio Valley and Tennessee, and in 
North Carolina. Then again, to the^orth of this region, 
the temperature was from 10° to 20° below the normal." 

At midnight of the 24th the centre of the storm had 
moved slightly Northward, and was near Savannah, where 
it may be said to have fairly entered the coast line. Its 
progress from that hour may Ipe clearly outlined. 

At Savannah the wind had increased in force to thirty 
miles at midnight of the 24th. At 4.30 A. M. of the 25th 
it was blowing fifty-six miles an hour from the Northwest. 
At Tybee the velocity of the wind was estimated at seventy- 
five miles. 

At Beaufort, S. C, the storm lasted from about midnight 
of the 24th until 9 A. M. of the 25th, the wind blowing first 
from the Northeast, but changing about 6 A. M. to the 
Northwest, after which hour it raged with greatest fury. 
Most of the vessels in the harbor were driven ashore and 
damaged ; the town was but little injured. The pro- 
gress of the storm up the coa ;t was marked by great 
destruction. All the low lands were flooded ; the roads 
were rendered impassable ; bridges were swept away ; whole 
forests were levelled, it is said, and great loss was inflicted 
upon all standing crops, the damage to sea island cotton being 
estimated at fully three-fourths of the crop. The islands 
and mainland suffered alike, and in proportion to exposure 
to the force of the wind and tides. A number of lives were 
lost on the Carolina coast, twenty-one having been reported. 

The centre of the storm was near Charleston at 7 A. M. 
of the 25th, and its passage was marked by the occurrences 
already described. 

Georgetown first began to feel the force of the wind in 
earnest at 11 o'clock on the 25th, from the Southeast, the 
gale reaching its height, as reported, at about i P. M. The 
barometer at that hour marked 29.1, having fallen .3 of an inch 
in half an hour. The wind veered to the West at about 1.30 
P. M., and the storm continued to be felt until 11 P. M. 
The force of the wind at this place was shown by lifting a 



16 



man bodily from the j^round and carrying him a distance of 
fifty yards, finally dropping him uninjured. Much damage 
was suffered by the town. 

At 3 P. M. on the -festh, the wind at Smithville, N. C, 
was fifty-five miles an hour from the Southeast, indicating 
the fact that the storm centre had followed a line to the 
West of that place. At 5.15 P. M., when the anemometer 
was blown away, it recorded the terrific velocity of ninety- 
eight miles an hour, as reported by the Signal Service Ob- 
server. Between 5.15 and 5.45 P. M., it is estimated 
by the same authority to have reached 125 miles an hour. 

At midnight of the 25th, the centre of the storm was 
North Northwest of Wilmington, and West of Hatteras. 
The force of the gale evidently missed Wilmington, as is 
shown by the fact that the maximum velocity of the wind 
at that place was officially reported dt fifty-two miles an 
hour. It is also noteworthy that the greatest force of the 
wind was from tlie South, plainly indicating that the city was 
then in the extreme right (or East) quadrant of the cyclone. 
At Kitty Hawk "a Northerly gale prevailed from 2.30 A. M. 
until 9.45 A. M. on the 26th; at 4.10 A. M. a velocity of 
fifty miles per hour was recorded," and the gale re-entered 
the ocean near that place. 

It would be interesting to trace the progress of the storm 
after leaving the North Carolina coast, as shown by the ex- 
perience of vessels which subsequently reported having en- 
countered it. It must sufifice to say, however, that while 
during the 25th all vessels between N. 30° and 37°, and be- 
tween the United States coast and the seventieth meridian, 
experienced furious gales, reaching at times hurricane force, 
from S. S. W., S. W., and S. E., in the early morning of the 
26th the winds South of 35° N. shifted to N. and N.W., indi- 
cating that the storm centre had passed Eastward off the 
coast line. On the morning of the 26th the centre was 
about longitude 70° W. and latitude 35° N., or about 350 
miles East of Hatteras. After reaching the ocean the rate 
of movement of the storm centre appears to have increased 
greatly, and by midnight of the 26th it was between 
W, 60° and 65°. During the 27th and 28th the storm 



17 



moved rapidly Norllicastward, keeping clear of the coast, 
and disappeared on the 29th in the North Atlantic beyond 
the region covered by the Signal Service reports. 

It is a matter of lasting regret that a complete record of 
the direction and force of the winds could not have been 
made at Charleston, where the utmost fury of the gale was 
certainly expended. About 8 A. M., however, the register- 
ing apparatus on the roof of the Signal Service Office was 
broken by the force of the wind, and no observations of 
the kind were recorded after that time. Sergeant Smith, 
the Observer at Charleston, estimates that the average 
hourly velocity from 7.30 to 7.45 A. M. was sixty-four miles. 
The last record made by the anemometer, at 8.04 A. M., 
was sixty-eight miles an hour. The greatest force of the 
wind was manifested after this time, however, and can 
only be estimated. It has been shown that the anemometer 
at Smithville registered ninety-eight miles an hour before it 
was likewise broken, and that the velocity of the wind was 
afterwards estimated at one hundred and twenty-five miles 
an hour. It is safe to assume that it nowhere exerted 
greater force than at Charleston, if that force may be meas- 
ured by its effects. 

The corrected barometer readings were as follows: 



Monday, Align st 24th. 

Inches. 



7.00 A. M 29.968 

11.00 " 29.990 

3.00 " 29.922 



Inches. 

7.00 r. M 29.869 

II.OQ " 29.834 



Tuesday, August 2§th. 



7.00 A, 
8.00 
8.05 

8.10 ' 

8.30 ' 

8.40 ' 

8.50 • 



M. 



Inches. 
.29.440 
.29.231 
.29.186 
.29.131 
.28.962 
.28.868 
.28.778 



Inches. 

9.00 A. M 28 . 768 

9.10 " 28.758 

9.15 " 28.708 

9.40 " 28.748 

10.00 " 29.794 

11.00 " 29.330^ 

3.00 P. M 29 . 724 

7.00 " 29.731 



' The fall in the barometer at ii A. M. marked the passage of a brief thunder storm. 



18 



The record of the thermometer (Fahr.) was as follows at 
the hours of observation : 



Monday^ August 2^th. 



7.00 A. M 83" 

11.00 " 88" 

3.00 p. M 83.4" 



7.00 P. M 84" 

11.00 " 81.5" 



Maximum for the day 89" Minimum 81.2°, 
Tuesday, August 2§th. 



7.00 A. M 77" 

11.00 " 74" 

3.00 P. M 77" 



7.00 P. M 81" 

11.00 " 80.6" 



[aximum for the day 83.4°. Minimum 72°, 



DIRECTION AND VELOCITY OF WIND. 
Monday, August 2^th. 

7.O0 A. M. — East 10 miles an hour. 

11.00 " — East II miles an hour. 

3.00 P. M. — East 12 miles an hour. 

7.00 " — East 14 miles an hour. 

11.00 " — Southeast , 17 miles an hour. 

Holding Southeast from this hour (and indeed froin some 
time before 10 o'clock) the wind recorded its actual progress 
in miles on the chart of the Signal Service Station as fol- 
lows: 

11.00 P. M. to midnight , 20 miles. 



Tuesday, August 2^th. 



Midnight to i A. M. . . .24 miles. 

1 A. M. to 2 A. M 23 

2 " "3 " 18 

3 " "4 " 23 " 



4 A. M. to 5 A. M 30 miles. 

5 " "6 " 38 " 

6 " "7 " 47 " 

7 " "8 " 52 " 



For a few minutes between 7 A. M. and 8 A. M. the ane- 



19 



mometer recorded a velocity of seventy-two miles an hour; 
and it should be noted that the figures in the table for the 
25th do not record the highest velocity of the wind, which 
constantly varied, but the distance travelled by it between 
the hours named. Double velocity for a half hour, in other 
words, would have given the same result in any case, even 
though the wind had lulled entirely for the remaining half 
hour. The greatest force of the wind was felt in Charles- 
ton from the Southeast and from the Northwest, indicating 
that the storm centre moved over the city on a general 
Northeasterly line. 

A great rush of cold air from the Northwest over the 
Middle Atlantic States ensued upon the passage of the storm. 
On the morning of the 25th killing frosts were reported in 
Minnesota and Dakota, and on the 26th snow fell in Penn- 
sylvania. 

The approach of another severe storm, from the Gulf of 
Mexico, was indicated on the morning of the 29th. On the 
morning of the 30th the centre was a little Southeast of 
New Orleans; on the morning of the 31st it was North 
Northwest of Jacksonville and Southwest of Savannah. By 
midnight the centre had passed off the Carolina coast, ac- 
companied by a very heavy fall of rain, which caused much 
damage in Charleston by pouring through the roofs broken 
by the cyclone. 

With the exception of the e.xtreme Northwest, the rain- 
fall for August, 1885, was unusually heavy over the central 
and Northern portion of the country East of the one hun- 
dred and fifth meridian. It was also very heavy along the 
coast of South Carolina and Georgia. At Charleston the 
monthly precipitation was 19.18 inches, or nearly three 
times the average for August at this station, exceeding by 
more than four inches the largest monthly precipitation 
that had occurred since the Signal Service Office was estab- 
lished here, in 1871. The precipitation on the 25th was 
4.29 inches, of which 4.020 fell between the hours of 10 A.M. 
and 2 P. M., while 7.58 inches fell from the 29th to the 31st 
inclusive. Six inches fell at Hardeeville in one day, the 31st. 



20 



The remainder of the story is soon told. The sun which 
shone on Charleston during the afternoon of August 25th 
looked down on a wrecked city. The storm was over and 
gone, but the calm which followed was such as "reigned in 
Warsaw," and in the South for many a dreary year after the 
the war. Tlie brave, beloved city which had been sweptby 
fire, stormed at with shot and shell, and occupied by a hos- 
tile army, within a quarter of a century, had now been 
buffeted for hours by raging seas, and shaken to its founda- 
tions by the most fearful storm that has ever visited our 
coasts within the knowledge of man. It was naturally to 
be expected that the inhabitants of the city would be dis- 
mayed by the extent of their loss. But it was not so. With 
the rising of the morrow's sun the work of repair and re- 
construction began hopefully and bravely. Where all had 
suffered there were none to weep over a neighbor's woes. 
Few complaints were uttered ; despair found no place even 
among the ruins. Offers of assistance were promptly made 
by the Governor of the State and from various other au- 
thorities. The answer was as promptly returned in each 
instance that Charleston was strong enough to help itself; 
and help itself it did so effectually that the catastrophe 
scarcely interrupted the ordinary course of business beyond 
the few hours required to repair the railroad tracks leading 
out of the city, and to clear the rubbish out of the way of 
the vehicles and pedestrians on the streets. Wrecks were 
raised or cleared away, roofs were patched or repaired, 
wharves were rebuilt, the debris was removed, and at the 
end of a month a stranger passing through the city found 
but few traces of the storm. Only a few weeks later a dis- 
astrous tornado destroyed the town of Washington, in Ohio. 
Among the first cities in the country to offer aid in money 
was Charleston, which had so far recovered as to be ready 
to extend help to others in misfortune ! 

CARL Mckinley. 



THE TORNADO OF 176L 



The following description of a destructive tornado which 
swept around Charleston in 1 761, was published in THE 
News and Courier, September 12, 1885, and was taken 
from the manuscript diary of the Rev. Oliver Hart, in the 
possession of Mr. William G. Whildcn. It clearly illustrates 
the difference between the cyclone and the tornado, and is 
given place in the Year Book for this reason and because it 
possesses peculiar interest as being a record of the first storm 
of the kind in the United States of which any account has 
been preserved. 

The record in the Signal Service Office, at Washington, 
commences with a similar storm observed at Northford, 
Connecticut, June 19, 1794; the third on th6 list occurring 
at Charleston again during the afternoon of September 
II, 181 I. Mr. Hart's graphic and too brief narrative is as 
follows : 

"On Monday, 4th of May, 1761, about half an hour after 
2 P. M., an hour and a half after new moon, and very near 
the time of low water, a most violent whirlwind, of that 
kind coiumonly known under the title of typhones, passed 
down Ashley River and fell upon the siiipping in Rebellion 
Road with such fury and violence as to threaten destruction 
to the whole fleet. In the 'ship news' below is an account 
of the damage done by it : 

This terrible phenomenon was first seen by man}/ of the 
inhabitants of Charles-Town coming down Wappoo Creek, 
resembling a large column of smoke and vapor. Its whole 
motion was very irregular and tumultuous, as well as that of 
the neighboring clouds, which appeared to be driven down 
in nearly the same direction (from Southwest) and with 
great swiftness. The quantity of vapor which composed 



90 



this impetuous column and its prodigious velocity gave it 
such a surprising momentum as to plough Ashley River to 
the bottom and lay the channel bare, of which many peop'le 
were eye witnesses. This occasioned so great a flux and re- 
flux as to float many canoes, boats, perriaugres and even 
schooners and sloops, which were then lying dry and at a 
distance from the tide. When it was coming down Ashley 
River it made so great a noise as to be heard by most of 
the people in town, which was taken by some for a constant 
thunder. Its diameter at that time has generally been 
judged to be about 300 fathoms, and its height to a per- 
son in Broad Street 35°, though it increased as it went 
towards the road ; and when it canrje down towards White 
Point, though it was then nearly in the middle of Ashley 
River, it impelled such a vast body of water out of its place 
as to make the tide run for an instant several feet per- 
pendicular in all the docks along the Bay, and even up 
Cooper River, above Mr. Gadsden's. About this time it 
was met by another gust which came down Cooper River; 
this was not of equal strength or impetuosity with the other, 
but upon their meeting together the tumultuous and whirl- 
ing agitations of the air were seemingly much greater, inas- 
much as that the froth and vapor seemed to be thrown up 
to the apparent height of 35° or 40° towards the middle, 
while the clouds that were driving in all directions to this 
place seemed to be precipitated and whirled round at the 
same time with incredible velocity. Just after this, it fell 
on the shipping in the road, and was scarce three minutes 
in its passage; five vessels were sunk outright, and his 
Majesty's ship Dolphin, with many others, left their masts. 

All this great damage to the shipping, which is only reck- 
oned at twenty thousand pounds sterling, was done almost 
instantaneously, and some of those that were sunk were 
buried in the water so suddenly as scarce to give sufificient 
time to those who were below to get upon deck. Whether 
was this done by the immense weight of this column press- 
ing them instantaneously into the deep? or was it done by 
the water being forced suddeply from under them, and 



23 



thereby letting them sink so low as to be immediately 
covered and Ingulphed by the lateral mass of water? 

The strong gust from the Northward which checked the 
progress of this pillar of destruction in its way from Wappoo 
Greek, seems to have been sent by Providence for the pre- 
servation of Charles-Town, which, had it kept its then direc- 
tion, must have been driven before it like chaff. Another 
memorable instance of Divine favor is the small number 
lost of those that were on board the vessels in the road, of 
whom, we cannot learn there were more than four, viz: Mr. 
Nathaniel Polhill, of Georgia, a passenger in the Polly and 
Betsy, Gapt. Muir, and Robert Kay, Gapt. Muir's nephew, a 
sailor from on board the Elysabeth, Gapt. Mallard, and a 
boy belonging to the Success, Gapt. Glarke. 

From the shortness of the time we cannot give a partic- 
ular account of the rice and progress of this tremendous 
column. About noon it was seen near Spoon-Savannah, 
upwards of thirty miles West by South from Gharles-Town. 
It destroyed Mr. George Summer's house on his plantation 
at Stono, and on James Island carried away a large new 
two-story house with two stacks of brick chimneys belong- 
ing to the estate of the late Mr. Hutson, and all the negro 
houses and other buildings on the plantation ; Mr. WilHam 
Glen's buildings, &c., were served in the same manner, and 
it carried off the roof of Mr. Henderson's house and all the 
outbuildings. Many, both white people and negroes, were 
killed or hurt. Nor did the cattle escape, num.bers of which 
were found dead in the fields. 

In several parts of its course it left an avenue of a great 
width, from which every tree and shrub was torn up ; 
great quantities of leaves, branches and large limbs of trees . 
were sent furiously driven about and agitated in the body 
of the column as it passed along. 

The sky was overcast and cloudy all the forenoon of Mon- 
day, and about i o'clock it began to thunder, and continued 
more or less till after 3. As soon as the damage done in the 
road was perceived, the Governor sent orders to the corn- 
missionary to provide and get down as many boats and 



24 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



014 498 076 1 ( 



hands as possible. Every one seemed to vie with each 
other who should give the first and most effectual assistance. 

The fleet, as it was the largest and finest, was likewise 
thought to be the richest that ever was cleared out from 
Charles-Town. By 4 o'clock the wind was quite fallen, the 
sun shone out and the sky was clear and serene. We could 
scarcely believe that such a dreadful scene had been so re- 
cently exhibited, were not the sinking and dismasted vessels 
so many striking and melancholy proofs of its reality. 

A storm of this kmd has seldom or ever been known in 
Charles-Town, but the vcstages of such are to be seen in the 
woods in more places than one, both in this and the neigh- 
boring provinces. 

Sunk, 5, viz: Snow Polly and Betsy, William Muir, for 
London; ship Daniel, James Lake, Portsmouth ; snow Suc- 
cess, Thomas Clarke, Cowes ; Britaiiia, Thomas Wilson, 
Bristol, and sloop Patty, arrived this day from Providence. 

Dismasted, 6: His M^ijesty's ship Dolphin, Capt. Marlowe, 
the convoy; ship Thomas and Sarah, John Jackson, for 
Cowes; Elyzabeth, John Mallard, Cowes; ship Tyber, Peter 
Crombie, Cowes; Queen of Portugal, John Simpson, Cowes; 
snow John, George Evans, London. 

Lost both topmasts, 2 : Snow Eglantoun, Archibald Rob- 
ertson, Bristol ; brig Tivo Friends, Alexander Young, Ork- 
ney. 

Lost mizzenmasts, 2: Steamships Manchester, James 
Chambers, London ; Thorntoun, Richard Gilchrist, London. 

Lost foremast, i : Ship Heron, Patrick Craw, Portsmouth. 

Lost maintopmast, ! : Ship Henrietta, John Rains, Lon- 
don. 

Sunk, 5; dismasted, &c., 12; safe, or received little hurt 
25 ; total in Rebellion Road, 42 vessels." 



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014 498 076 li 



